My Brother's Keeper
by Kry1112
Summary: Casey Novak thinks she has found Mr. Right. What happens when he is a suspect from her last case and does something terribly wrong?
1. My Knight in Tarnished Armor

Title: My Brother's Keeper

Author: kry

Email: Kry.for. AC

Warnings: Abuse, rape, some language.

Spoilers: Some reference to "Night" Other case file information is entirely fictional.

Chapter One: My Knight in Tarnished Armor

"We find the defendant Jacob-Ray McCoy guilty on all charges."

The courtroom erupted in a cataclysm of reaction. JR McCoy's brothers, James and Jackson McCoy sat behind him, whispering quietly between them as their brother was taken from the court room. They stood simultaneously, their jackets draped casually over their bent arms, their expressions melancholy and disappointed, and walked out of the courtroom. No one noticed their exit.

"He got the death penalty." Casey Novak, stated, standing in front of the joined desks of Detectives Benson and Stabler, her burgundy suit jacket sleeves wrinkling as she crossed her arms.

"I thought he'd get life. What happened?" Olivia Benson said, not looking up at her from the case file she was reading.

"Well, he admitted to four other rape homicides. We gave him a deal if he would just out his accomplices. He just refused our offer, saying that it was all his doing. When we told him that the bruising wasn't consistent, he just claimed he came back numerous times. We have no other semen specimens, no other DNA but his, its open and shut. He's going to death row."

Benson shifted in her seat, closing the case file and staring up at the ADA. She furrowed her brow, and spoke, "Do you honestly believe there were accomplices?"

"Well, not without doubt. But there isn't anyone we can guess he would cover for. His brothers had individual alibis, and they checked out okay. We have no reason not to just believe him."

"Or just wait to see if his accomplices continue to attack women." It was the first time Detective Stabler had spoken. They sat in silence for a while, looking between the three of them; Casey Novak was the first to speak:

"Let's just hope there are no accomplices. For once, I want to get the perp in jail, without it falling apart or without having to establish some bogus deal."

It was a busy night. The overcrowded bar buzzed with the beginning of the weekend. She sat alone, sipping her beer little by little, taking her time with her consumption she still had to get home after all, and cab drivers in New York were all but friendly.

She turned around, feeling eyes on her back, only to turn to the face of Jackson McCoy.

"Hello counselor." He said, his azure eyes blazing with inhibitors, his speech slurring against his will.

"Eat the worm did you McCoy? Where's your designated driver?"

"Cute, Counselor Novak, very cute. Tequila burns when it goes down, lets you know you're still alive. Have some with me?"

She raised her beer bottle, and shook her head left to right; she'd rather not get trashed at a bar with a suspect from the trial she recently closed. She looked him over. During the prosecution of his brother, Jackson McCoy was very understanding, very helpful; charismatic even. She was happy when he was acquitted for suspicion of co-conspiracy. He sat next to her then, ordering tequila for himself, the house beer for her.

"So Counselor, do you have a first name, I mean, you know mine. What's yours? Oh wait! Let me guess, everyone calls you Novak huh?" He kicked back his shot of tequila, grimacing as it burned down his throat, and smiling as she looked to him.

"Why do you want to know?" She took the beer sitting in front of Jackson McCoy, nodding her thanks and she twisted the top off the bottle.

"Beautiful women deserve great names. I want to know if yours does you justice." He smiled his slanted smile. The slur in his voice, she noticed, was apart of his candor, he talked with the tip of his tongue.

"My name," she took another sip of her beer, "is Casey."

"Very well then, may I call you Casey?"

"Well, it is my name after all. You never answered my question, McCoy—"

"Jackson, my name is Jackson. You can use mine too, you know, the case is over."

"Well, Jackson, where is your designated driver?" She brushed her blonde bangs behind her ear, the pale nape of her neck somewhat warm in the lighting from the bar.

"If you mean James, Miss Novak," he said the name slowly and deliberately, the slanted smile disappearing from his features, replacing it with a stiff, nervous one, "I am not my brother's keeper."

"I see. What do you keep for your brother then?" Her fingertip swirls around the opening of her beer bottle, she looks at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I keep nothing for my brother. I take it we are no longer talking about James here. As well as J.R., he is my brother, but he cannot be forgiven for what he's done. He is family, and I don't want to see him die. No one wants that. But if that is the only way he can be punished for his crimes, he should have thought about the consequences ahead of time." He swallowed another shot of tequila, this time sans the grimace.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"No, it's okay." There was a pause between them. "So, what's a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this, all alone?"

She threw her head back at that, feeling the laughter travel from her stomach to her throat, coming out in husky spurts of giggling.

" Do you use that line on every woman you meet at a bar on Friday night?"

He smiled again, this time, ordering an iced tea. "Ah, and here I thought I was being charming. So, you don't enjoy your nights with someone special?"

"I don't get much time for a personal life, Jackson. With my job and all. So unless my someone special is case notes and preparation speeches, then no, no one special."

She looked at her watch then, ten thirty already. She drank the rest of her beer, sliding her stool away from the bar.

"It's been great, but I do believe I have an early morning tomorrow. It was, uh, nice."

She pulled her money from her pocket to pay for her tab when his hand rose in objection.

"I'll take care of it. Maybe we can do this again sometime, on purpose though."

She tilted her head to the side, smiling at the enigmatic man, "Maybe."

There were flowers waiting for her when she came to her office the next morning. She had lost taste for flowers after the night she was attacked. But the ones sitting on her desk were beautiful. She looked through the arrangement, yellow tulips, thornless roses, and gardenias. She searched the flowers for a card, finding one, hidden slightly under the arrangement.

She read it aloud. "I would explain to you what the meaning of this arrangement is, but then I'd lose my excuse to see you again. Come find out, you owe me tequila. –Jackson."

There was a time and address at the bottom of the card, her curiosity getting the best of her; she decided she would give Jackson a chance.

"Who are the flowers from?"

She was startled by Detective Stabler. She hadn't heard the door open, but it had, she quickly slipped the card into her blazer, leaning her hands on her desk.

"Oh the Robinson family sent there thanks." She pushed her bangs behind her ear.

"Oh, okay, well, I stopped by to see if you could get a warrant for our new case. We need DNA to place the suspect at the scene."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do."

She watched Elliot's eyes squint under his expressive eyebrows, and she watched him leave her office, closing the door behind him.

There were rumors going around the one-six, lately. This week it was her and Stabler, last week it was her and Munch. She usually laughed them off. All of the guys in the unit were like family, especially John and Elliot. And she knew exactly what Elliot would say if she had told him who the card was from. And this time she really didn't feel like the lecture. She wanted to judge Jackson's character for herself.

She walked into the bar, scanning the small crowd that gathered. She saw him, after the second glance, at a small booth near the back corner of the bar. She straightened her blazer, and walked toward his direction. His sandy brown hair was somewhat disheveled, his tie loosened, his arm sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his watch tightly fastened around his somewhat hairy forearm; he didn't notice her walk up to him, checking his watch before looking up to greet her. He stood.

"I wasn't sure you were coming, started to get a little nervous. Have a seat, I ordered for you, I hope you don't mind."

She sat, pulling off her blazer, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. She looked at the amber liquid in front of her.

"I know, you don't like tequila, I'll have the barman bring you beer if you like, and we can just leave it in case you want it later."

She quirked her eyebrow. "That's fine. So, what do the flowers mean?"

He laughed then, a throaty, full laugh that left her smiling in its wake.

"Straight to the point, huh? I was surprised you didn't do some research. I was chancing that your curiosity would lead you here, until a few minutes ago I didn't think you would show up. But we can go over that later, don't want to satisfy your curiosity yet, you might leave me all alone then. How about we get to know each other."

She brushed her bangs behind her ear, cocking her head as the bartender dropped the beer off at the table, smiling at her before retiring to his post.

"Well, Jackson, what do you want to know about me?"

"Tell me something I don't know about you already."

He sat back, twiddling his thumbs.

"Well, what do you know about me, lets not be redundant."

"Well…" He sat forward, his elbows supporting his weight on the table. "I know you're an ADA for the Special Victims Unit. I know you're very well spoken, very intelligent. The rest, well, hopefully I'll get to know a little more about you tonight, personal things, not work related."

"Okay…"

"And nothing obvious."

"Well, I don't date much."

"Why not, it seems like guys would be lining up to date you."

"On the contrary, Jackson, not too many guys can respect an independent woman."

"Yea, understandable, what's your favorite color?"

"That's random. I like green."

"I guessed right. Which shade of green?"

"Any really. I like to stand out in what I wear, so green contrasts well with my complexion."

"I see, I see."

"Tell me something about you, Jackson."

"Well, I'm a customer service rep at a bank. I don't date, well, I don't find many women appealing…until now. My favorite color is white-"

"White? That's a first."

"Well, if you can call it a color. But it's just so—so clean, unmarred, it's just nice."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Shoot, Casey."

"What do the flowers mean?"

He chuckled then. Brushing his hand threw his hair he looked away then, he looked back to her.

"Well, the yellow tulips mean, there is sunshine in your smile, the gardenias mean you're lovely and the thornless roses mean love at first sight."

Casey took that moment to grab the tequila in front of her and down it, swallowing the burn along with it.

It was almost eleven, the bar, buzzing on the Saturday night, muffled the echoes of laughter coming from the booth near the back. They sat, laughing at the series of questions that had come pouring from their mouths after the first few glasses of tequila.

"What was your most embarrassing moment?" She took the bread stick sitting in between them, biting the corner of the garlic bread as she smiled at him. He rubbed his eyes, looking up at her, smiling when he realized when it was.

"It was, the night I lost my virginity. Well, when I was supposed to."

"When you were supposed to? You had it planned?" She asked, as her curiosity peaked.

"Well, we were fumbling around the back seat of my old Chevy and I was in such a rush. I wound up catching myself in my zipper."

"Wow that must've hurt like hell."

"Yea it did. I didn't expect her to talk to me after that, but after it healed, she laughed at me for a while. I never lived it down."

"How old were you?"

"I think, I was nineteen. Yea, I was nineteen, which is why she found it so funny. Told me I should be used to unzipping my pants by now. When did you lose your virginity?"

She blushed then, the table instantly quieted, her head ducking as if someone threw something at her.

"Sorry, Casey don't answer, it's personal, I shouldn't have—"

She laughed awkwardly then, looking him in the eye, and cocking her head to the side.

"We are both adults, here, I can take it."

"Yea…" His hand, brushed through his hair again.

"Well, the day I lost my virginity is…" She blew air through her pursed lips, her eyes angling upward as if trying to remember. "…is to be announced."

The look on his face was confusion first, until her answer registered.

"You mean? You're saying? You've never?—"

She tucked that pesky strand of hair behind her ear again, smiling her uncomfortable smile.

"Yea, in this day in age it must seem like a taboo. I'm almost thirty years old. When I was younger it was all about that special someone, I thought that way for a long time, abstaining from anything other than companionship. I went to college, deciding that relationships were distracting. I graduated soon after, law school next on my list. I met my fiancé there. He respected my beliefs, never pushed, or got frustrated. Then he got sick. After we broke up, I couldn't give myself to anyone else, it seemed like betrayal. I graduated from law school top of my class, people respected me. After a while I just got used to the idea. It'll happen, whenever it's supposed to."

She swallowed her fourth shot of tequila that night.

"That's something you didn't know about me, huh?"

"I'm impressed."

"Impressed Jackson, how so?"

"Yes, I mean, it's good you have respect for yourself. You have to respect yourself before anyone else can. And I mean, come on Casey, you demand your respect, I've seen you in action." He smiled then, that same slanted smile he did before, the one that gave her butterflies. It was something that beckoned her. It pulled her in.

"And whoever gets to have you, I'm sure, he'll deserve you. You know even if that guy isn't me."

She woke up with her head thrumming. She was aware of hangovers, just never those of this magnitude. She took her time to take in her surroundings, not quite familiar with the bedroom she was in. It was still somewhat dark, maybe before five probably. She got up, confused when she looked down at the oversized t-shirt she wore.

"Where am I?" She mused as she walked into the living room of the large apartment. She looked toward the oversized sofa, noticing Jackson sleeping soundly on it, the television set blaring some infomercial. She grabbed her clothes from the puddle on the floor, near the door, they were somewhat wet. Before she could get back to the bathroom, Jackson woke.

"Leaving so soon? I was hoping for breakfast." He sat up then, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, I don't really remember much from yesterday."

"Oh—well you had a few more tequilas, we hailed a cab and you fell asleep, I thought my place was better since—well, I don't know where you live. It started raining, so I let you borrow one of my shirts, you can wash your clothes if you like, there's no rush, grab some coffee?"

She didn't know what to say, she looked down again, her pale bare legs cold against the morning air. He was a nice guy, she could relax around him.

She sat at the kitchen table as he made coffee, her stomach growling all the while.

"I have some bagels, want one?"

"Sure, that would be nice."

They sat in silence as they ate,

"So, did you enjoy yourself last night?"

"Yea, it was…interesting. It was nice to let loose and get out."

"Same here. So I take it we can do it again sometime?"

"I think so, that would be nice."

Monday morning was different this week. She walked in, her stride confident, yet relaxed, the smile seemed permanently fixed on her face. It was nice that there were still great men out there. She was glad that there were still men that respect boundaries and knew how to treat women. With all the gruesome things she witnessed in the SVU, she didn't know if genuine people still existed. The realization that she'd been proven wrong was a great feeling. It was a great irony.

That Sunday was great. She felt comfortable around Jackson. Sitting half naked at his kitchen table eating bagels was no problem; it was as comfortable as she would've been in her own apartment. It frightened her somewhat, while at the same time quieted her fears. She gave him a kiss when he dropped her at her apartment that afternoon, after they watched some television while her clothes dried. It was a simple kiss, yet one that assured more to come. She was enthused, she wanted to see him again, and see him she would.

"More flowers Casey? When are you going to tell us his name?"

"If there was a him, you'd know."

"Which I'm asking for a name, come on you've been walking around with a silly grin all day, spill it."

"Olivia…"

"Casey, come on you know I'll keep your secret."

"You mean I know you and Elliot will keep my secret."

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Fine. His name is Jackson."

"How'd you meet him?"

"I met him at one of the trials."

"A lawyer Casey, really?"

"No…."

"Well then—"

The big 'O' formed on her face, then fell into a smirk.

"Jackson McCoy? Casey…of all people."

"He's sweet."

"If you say so. I don't even want to tell Elliot this one; you'll have to do that one on your own. But, I'm glad he makes you happy."

It was Casey's turn to roll her eyes. She chuckled then, noticing the bewilderment on Olivia's face.

"One step at a time Liv, I'm not getting married."

"Well, be careful. You don't know anything about him."

"Yea most people don't know about each other until they date. I'll be fine."

"When is the next time you're going out?"

"This Wednesday, he said he wants to take me somewhere."

"Okay. Call me and let me know how it goes."

"Liv, don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

"If you say so Casey."

It was beautiful. The field was heavenly at night, the lights cascading over the bases left room to see the stars. She sat down with him then, on the checkered blanket he brought, and looked to him. He brought wine with him, for her, while he sipped on his tequila, basking in the sight of the night.

"This is beautiful Jackson." He poured some wine into her glass; she cupped the glass as she drank, still staring into the sky.

"Yea, when you told me you like softball I just had to bring you here. It's like heaven." He looked at her then, watching as her gaze faltered to her drink. "Feels like you're floating on clouds. Doesn't it Casey."

Her eyes fluttered then, to heavy to keep open, she felt nauseous.

"Casey, doesn't it feel like you're floating?"

She couldn't answer, her lips numb. And then, all she saw was black.


	2. False Valor

Chapter Two: False Valor

She was groggy when she came to. Her brain was hammering relentlessly against her temple as she rolled over on the small mattress she didn't really remember falling asleep on. And that's when it hit her. She grew nauseous then, holding back the bile that threatened to kiss the tip of her tongue. She searched frantically around the dark room, looking for any sign of light, any beacon of hope. The only thing she knew about the room was that it was empty. Tense, cold air surrounded her, forcing her to curl around herself. The dark was thick, seeming like solid to her foreign body. The silence was deadly, and she knew that once light broke through the solid block of darkness, she would be in even more of a pressing situation than she already was. And suddenly, as if Fate had ordered her death; the door opened. For the first time in her life, Casey Novak had no back-up plan.

"Has anyone seen Casey? I need a warrant signed to search Morrison's apartment." He walked down the hallway, walking past John and Fin. He saw his partner approaching, pulling lightly at her arm as she brushed by him, reading a case file. "Liv--did you see Casey--"

"Cragen said she called in a sick day. Haven't talked to her much since yesterday night." She flipped over the second page of the case file, briskly strolling back into the bullpen.

"So who am I supposed to get to sign the warrant?" Elliot yelled as the door closed behind her.

She was blinded at first. Shielding her eyes all the while trying to see, she saw the silhouette of a man, a very burly man. She expected Jackson to walk in, but surprisingly it wasn't him, but someone all too familiar nonetheless.

"I see you're awake." His voice was like liquid silk. So quiet and reserved she could do nothing but steel herself against the bare mattress clutching it like a child hiding from the boogey man.

"Please don't try to run, save me the effort of having to hit you. And besides, the doors are locked and you'll never find the keys."

She heard footsteps then, reverberating from a long hallway somewhere not too far from where they were. A chilling whistle found it's way to the door before it's owner stepped into the small room.

"Hello Casey. We've been waiting for you to wake up. Took you long enough. We thought we wouldn't be able to play with you."

He laughed then. That same charismatic laugh that only days ago gave her butterflies. Nausea was the only pangs she had in her stomach at that moment, and she couldn't tell if it was because of the drugs, or because of that frightening laugh. He walked toward her, strutting over to her slowly, deliberately so, before crouching down to where she sat. And before she could help herself, she spit in his face. His smile grew wider, spreading like a disease across his wicked face, he pulled his hand back, and launched it at her face, the impact sending her flying backwards onto the mattress. She could roughly here Jackson tell his younger brother to leave. "Stand outside the door," he said as he leaned over her, her body vulnerable to his; pressing against him.

"You know Casey," he pushed her bangs out of her face and gently behind her ear, "All we wanted to do was shake you up a little. Scare you enough to get you to tamper with evidence, misplace a few details to get J.R. off trial. But then, you messed up, got my brother life. And then you admitted that you were a virgin. It was tempting. You trusted me so much, so fast. It was great. It was perfect, enticing even. You brought this upon yourself...remember that."

"She isn't answering her phone." Olivia paced outside of Casey's apartment, looking toward Elliot as the answering machine connected on the other end.

"Can we honestly assume that she isn't sick? Or just tired?"

"It just doesn't feel right El. She told me she had a date last night. And she just calls out of work, that isn't like her."

"Well, maybe she stayed the night with him."

Olivia rolled her eyes then, turning back to the building and looking toward Casey's floor.

"She's not like that Elliot. Just--walk me up, I have a key, let's just go check."

"Fine Liv, if it makes you feel better..."

They walked up the stairs, coming toward Casey's door, pressing the key into the lock. They looked around the entire apartment, finding nothing out of place. Her bedroom still as neat as Olivia remembered it, it was overall unnerving. Olivia sighed heavily, rubbing her temples as if expelling her confusion.

"Something is wrong Elliot. I mean, Cragen told me when Casey called in she didn't sound like herself. Said that she sounded like she had a sore throat. If she was so sick, she would be home right now...She would have at least called me if she needed something from the store. She always does. It just--it doesn't fit."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better we can see if we can find her date. If she is there we can just drop it, if not, we'll go back to Cragen, see if she just didn't want anyone to know she was taking time off. I bet she's fine Liv, we all need a break sometimes."

They walked out of her apartment then, Olivia Benson shaking her head as she walked behind her partner.

She was down to her underwear now. The first blow to her face was not the only one. He had kicked her relentlessly for a few minutes, trying his best to limit her mobility. When he finally stopped, he crouched down and pulled off articles one by one, until she had nothing on but her bra and underwear. Since his brother had closed the door, she had no light, the kicks that bombarded her body were unexpected, and they were harder to ward off as he pushed on. She couldn't protect herself.

_Rule number one: Let them do it, don't fight, don't make them angry, the faster they get their way, the quicker they go away._

She could remember the smirk on her face when the R.A.I.N.N. counselor had instructed her group. She thought back to the second rule of her training.

_Rule number two: Get as far away from your attacker as you can. Try to get to a safe environment. _

How ironic...she couldn't believe it was her in this situation. '_It can happen to anyone,' _she remembered them saying. It sounded so much like those Clearing house giveaways. If she were anywhere else at that moment, that would have almost made her smile-- almost. She sat there thinking to herself all the ways she could have prevented the situation she was in. She was snapped back into reality when a cold hand unclasped her bra.

"Cragen got a warrant to search Jackson McCoy's apartment. It's not too far from here we can walk."

"How did he get it so fast?"

"Well he said he just told the judges it was an attempt to find Casey, and they just signed it, even at three A.M."

"Well, we need to hurry up Liv, I'm starting to feel a little uneasy."

With all the pride she could muster, she did not scream when his hand slid up the inside of her bare thigh. She would not give him the satisfaction. Nor did she hiss when he reached inside her underwear, invading parts of her body not yet explored. She squeezed her legs together when he cupped her through the thin cotton, his skin mingling with the delicate flesh of her private parts. She stared into the dark, trying her best to hug her arms close to her bruising body, trying her best to fade away to someplace else. He brought her out of her trance when he whispered in her ear.

"You know, if you would have just lost the case none of this would be happening, Casey. But no matter what happens just know, you won't enjoy this, and even if I do get caught, I"ll have something to cherish for the rest of my life.--Jimmy bring in the camera!"

She tried to sit up, but his hand held her to the bed, her body cold from the crisply tense air in the room. She wanted to cry when Jackson's brother brought in the camera, it's bright beaming light shined directly on the pair. Jackson took her look of humiliation as his time to speak.

"Casey, this wouldn't be fun if we just got to enjoy you. No, I think all of your friends at the sixteenth district would be delighted to see you in action."

And as he laughed, she simply let the single tear fall. She knew then, she wouldn't leave the room.

end of Chapter two.

A/N: I apologize for the dark overtones of the story. The next few chapters will deal with vivid details of rape, voyeurism, and humiliation. If this offends you, please do not continue. I do not appreciate flames, when warnings are in abundance. Continue if you wish, and please, leave comments.

Kry.


	3. Loss

Warning: This chapter contains scenes that may be upsetting to some readers. Reader discretion is advised. Flames are not needed, don't read if the subject material bothers you.

Chapter Three: The Digital Loss of Her Dignity

The camera was on them again, the light shining on and off her face as James shifted it from hand to hand before finally leaving it on the tripod. She didn't move from where she laid, on her bruised stomach, the rough material of his jeans scratching her bare bottom. Jackson lifted her chin, bringing it in view of the camcorder; she steeled her face then, controlling the only thing in the situation that she could--her emotions. She wanted nothing more but to scream at the camera, give her colleagues a clue to where she was, but she didn't. She couldn't afford another beating, her stomach was almost purple, her ribs not quite broken, but burning very much so and asking for reprieve. Besides, she didn't know where she was anyway. She couldn't speak, she couldn't mouth the words she needed to, she felt helpless. She stared into the camera, her face like a stone, unmoving. Then she heard the most terrifying sound she ever heard--she heard a zipper being pulled down.

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They knocked on the door repeatedly. When no one answered, the officer that met them there with the warrant unlocked the door with the key the super gave them. They walked in, noticing nothing out of place, no disheveled or upturned furniture, no strewn clothing or broken glass, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They searched for an hour then, deciding it was time to take drastic measures, this was now a case for the SVU.

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Jackson was in between her legs now, showing the lens what she looked like naked. She wanted to close her legs, cover her body, but she couldn't, his brother, James held her hands above her head, pinching her wrists when she tried to move. James whispered threats into her ear, "Kick him and I'll kill you," and "Try it and you die," reverberated through her mind as Jackson continued to survey her genitals with the camera. She felt the weight shift on the mattress, and listened while Jackson replaced the camera on its stand, adjusting it to whatever setting he needed for his endeavor.

Jackson sat at her feet, rubbing her legs, kneading at her thighs and caressing her breasts. She stared at the ceiling then, trying to deprive them of the reaction they sought. She stayed still, ignoring his exploration of her body; she stayed that way as he continued...until she felt his tongue.

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They stood at the center of the bullpen, speaking to the officers of the unit about their search for ADA Casey Novak. Asking for immediate help, only one person stepped forward, detective Helen Prince, a red headed demure woman who worked for computer crimes. She asked to speak to Olivia in private then. They went to the interrogation room, sitting on opposite sides of the table. Helen spoke first.

"She asked to borrow my car. I never noticed that her bike was her transportation, she said she only used cars when it was a long distance, and they were usually rented--"

"Did she say where she was going? Did you let her borrow your car?"

"She said she had a date, she didn't want him to come get her, so they were going to meet up at the baseball field. I didn't think much about it this morning when she didn't bring it back, I thought the date had went well, but when I heard you guys talking about her, I got scared. I went to the field, talked to the program director, he said he left the field open for a guy, Jackson, and they had left some of their stuff on the lot. I didn't know what to do, it's none of my business ya know? Casey is my friend, and she asked for a favor, so I said yea."

"Okay...thanks Helen, you just gave me a start." She got the address then, leaving the room soon after thanking the detective. Olivia went to Elliot, motioning her to follow him. They left the precinct, on a race to find their friend."

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His tongue lingered on her sex, licking her in places she hadn't explored since pubescence, evoking sensations she had suppressed since college, sensations she knew would never hold the same meaning, sensations that would bring along with it feelings of shame and helplessness. She tried to wiggle away from his tongue, but his hands held her hips down, forcing her to stay still. She started squeezing her legs then, around his head, trying to stop him in his ministrations. Her attempt was futile; Jackson simply pinched her, hard, showing her that he would not allow it. She was afraid when his finger found her entrance, pressing in unexpectedly, exciting a gasp as he shoved it inside of her. Her body quickly accommodated to the intrusion, betraying her. He continued with his tongue, flicking it over he hardened nub, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She felt her body climax, crying as she experienced her first orgasm, sobbing when she realized what just transpired, and who would know about it because of the tape. James let go of her wrists, and Jackson lifted himself from the bed as pulled down his unzipped pants and his underwear, exposing his erection. James got behind the camera, and Jackson got between her legs, this time pressing his penis to her opening, mocking her when she cried out.

She screamed then, "Please, don't do this, I'll do anything...just don't?"

Jackson pulled away from her then, a sly smile falling on his lips.

"Anything huh?"

She shook her head yes.

He pulled her to her feet, only to shove her shoulders downward, her body falling to its knees. He forced her chin to the camera.

"Do it then."

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They searched the baseball field, the program director explaining to them about the couple who had planned their date. He kept all that they left on the field, in case they came back for it. They took it from him, going back to the precinct to get it analyzed. Who they found their shocked them.

J.R. McCoy, escorted by prison guards and police detail, sat in a chair in the interrogation room. His orange jumpsuit was stark in comparison to his tanned skin. He waited for them, speaking only when they came into the room.

"Before I tell you anything I want a deal."

Olivia spoke first. "Sorry that's not our field. You would have to speak to our ADA."

"Well, detective, I know where your ADA is, and I know what they'll do to her. So I want a deal."

"Tell us what you know." Elliot spoke up, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table.

"I want life, and when you arrest my brothers, they get life, and at the same prison as me."

"No deal," they said as unison, their backs turning as they walked toward the door.

"Then good luck finding her, I can just imagine what they are doing to her..."

Before they could react, Munch opened the door.

"James McCoy just turned himself in, and he has a videotape."

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She was still throwing up. They left a while earlier, after filming her submission, and its aftermath. She curled up on the mattress, sobbing as she dry heaved all that was left. She wanted to die, at least then this would be over. She heard the door open, then close, a light from the camera shining on her again, mocking her. She didn't turn around, she didn't stop crying. She was tired of trying to be strong; she just wanted it to be done with.

He set the camera on its stand, coming over to her, rubbing his hands down her back. She knew this time, he wouldn't take a substitute...

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End of Chapter three.

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, I just want to keep you on edge. Please leaves comments, and read the warnings. Oh and I forgot the disclaimer: This isn't mine, never was dick owns em, I use em.

There, happy now?


	4. A Tardy Rescue

The room smelled like vomit. The stale stench of cold air had left and in its wake was the vestige of her lost pride. Jackson left the room, leaving her alone to bask in a pitiful puddle of disgust . She had no doubt now that they were looking for her. She knew that she had to hold on, even though her body told her to give up. Her breathing had become labored since his attack on her ribs, and retching her stomach contents did not help her condition. She steeled her body as he entered the room, turning on a light that seemingly appeared out of no where. He was carrying something, a bottle of something she couldn't make out, but it was in a squeezable bottle. The implications were frightening. He walked over to a table, one she didn't acknowledge, and pushed it into a corner. Putting the bottle down, he walked over to the video camera, adjusting the tripod so that it sat at the far end of the table, the end pressed against the wall, and set it to record. He walked over to her then, gripping her arms and lifting her up, stepping over her vomit as they crossed the room. He unzipped his pants, pulling them down and positioning himself at her anus, seemingly ready to penetrate her from behind. She did the only thing she could then, "I have to pee."

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"We found Jackson's car. That must mean he took Agent Prince's car. We are doing a search on the tags now, we should have a trail in a little while."

"Thanks Monroe." She patted him on the back, turning to Elliot, "What do we do with his brother?"

"We need any clues we can get. We have Munch and Fin looking at the tape. We don't have much time, they wont let us keep the case if we lose our heads, so we have to rush the process."

Elliot stood there looking to his weary partner. They left David Monroe's office, walking down the hall, but not too far away from the door. Olivia was the first to speak.

"How can they watch that tape...knowing what could be on it?"

"Liv, we can't pick the vic--"

"Don't give me that bullshit Elliot. This shouldn't have happened, it shouldn't still be happening, Casey should be here right now, she should not be somewhere getting rape--"

"I know how you feel, Liv, but if Munch and Fin don't watch that tape, someone else will have to, and that someone else won't know Casey and how strong she is, and they'll pity her. That's the last thing she needs when she comes back, we have to keep this contained."

Olivia stood there, running her shaky hands through her hair, on the verge of tears. Finally, she spoke, breaking the silence between them.

"We might as well go interview James McCoy, he could give us some leads."

Elliot walked behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back, reassuring her silently that they would find their friend.

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"Pee on the floor, you already threw up."

"I, I can't. Please just let me go?"

"You're pitiful you know that? Get up, no funny business, you can't get out of here, understand?"

He pulled her by her arm, forcing her to stand up. Pulling on the edge of his pants, he pulled them up on his waist. They walked into the long hallway, doors similar to the one she just exited, all with gold shiny numbers on them. She doubted they were in an apartment building, many of the doors were deteriorating, apparently going unused for quite some time. He lead her to the door at the end of the hall, and turned her towards him, smiling sinisterly before speaking.

"No windows down here, got it? Everything is locked, you can't out run me. So pee and walk back out, don't make me angry, Casey."

He ran his hand along her cheek before pushing her into the bathroom. She closed the door, staring at her face in the dirty mirror. Her face only had one bruise, an angry red welt along the side of her face, lining her cheekbone, from where he slapped her. She took in her stomach then, since the light was sufficient, and almost gasped at the damage done. She grazed the surface, wincing as the small touch registered. Her stomach was purple, from his kicks, and somewhat swollen. She was jarred out of her revere when he banged on the door. She took note of her actual need to urinate then, crying silently as she did so. There was no way out, and she knew that she would have to just accept what was about to happen, if she wanted to leave alive.

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"Where is she?" Elliot yelled, slamming the palm of his hand on the table. James McCoy sat there, calmly as he watched the detective in front of him, not saying anything even though he was being bombarded with questions.

"If you tell us, we can cut you a deal, but if we find her and she isn't alive, we have enough on that tape to send you to jail forever."

He spoke then, his icy cool voice melting away at the patience of the detectives standing in front of him.

"We wanted a deal from the start detective, but you wouldn't grant one. You'd do anything to save one of your own, wouldn't you?"

Elliot wiped his face with his hand.

"As well as you, McCoy. Make this easy, turn in your brother and you get a few years in jail. If you don't, you go down like your brother, you'll be in jail for life."

"Never."

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They were back in the room, she was bent awkwardly over the table, as he held her hands in one hand, he pulled down his hands pants again, positioning his penis at her anus. 'This was it', she thought, she was going to be anally raped, and there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to go out with a fight, scream and plead for him to reconsider, but she knew it would only ignite his anger, and she knew if he got angry at her again, she would not be able to physically recover. No matter how much she didn't want this to happen, no matter how much she wanted to fight- she wanted to survive more.

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Cragen stood in front of his detectives, looking to them solemnly. He began to tell them of their plan.

"There were two cars found that matched the description. One car was found abandoned in a rural lot , close to a residential area. The other was found at an abandoned junk yard not too far from the old Hobbs Inn hotel, we called the district police and they will be heading over now since they are closer to the residential area, so , you guys are going in the chopper to the lot near Hobbs Inn. None of the cars have tags, we are thinking McCoy ditched them on the way, which means he must be close to either of the two areas, because they would have had to carry her to the location. We are checking for developments, abandoned buildings and other places where people won't be in abundance. Nevertheless, no one will get there for a little while from now, so let's just hope he hasn't... well let's just hope."

They stopped interviewing James McCoy when Cragen delivered the news, they were waiting silently on the roof of the precinct to be picked up by the chopper. The five detectives sat in silence, all thinking simultaneously that they hoped they would get there in time.

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She was violently shaking. The bottle he brought in was apparently lubrication, and he was spreading it on her, readying her for the intrusion. She felt like she couldn't breathe, her chest heaving as he readjusted himself. Unexpectedly, he forced himself into her, evoking a painful scream from her. She didn't know when she'd began the mantra of "no" and "stop", but she had, and her shrieks were reverberating from the walls. He began thrusting violently into her flesh, the friction burning as he continued. She brought her hands behind her, trying to stop his hips from pumping into her, but it wasn't working. She was choking on her on saliva, caught in her throat from the impact of his thrusts. He pulled her hair then, aiming her face at the camera. All she could do was sob.

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"I'm going to kill the bastard. No one will believe what he says, so I am going to shove my fist down his throat."

"Fin, you know you can't..."

"Liv, I know I can't, but I want to. This is Casey, someone who never hurts anyone. So if the asshole gets tossed around some, we claim he refused arrest."

"I know how you feel..."

Olivia patted Fin's hand, rubbing it as she looked toward the approaching chopper. Hopefully they made it there in time.

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He had stopped momentarily, giving her enough time to breathe when he pulled away. He was putting on a condom, rolling it down himself as she crumpled to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs as she cried. She always thought that there was always a way out. That if you tried and fought you would be able to succeed. But she didn't. She hadn't tried to fight, it was futile, she couldn't even try to keep her pride. She let him steal her innocence, and she was going to let the man in front of her rape her, he was going to steal her virginity.

He pulled at her arm, rolling her onto her back, her shoulders coming in contact with the cold floor. Her hands automatically rose, coming in contact with his chin, pushing him backwards. She tried to stand, the stinging sensation from her backside not registering until he pulled at her ankles, knocking her on her bottom. He was on her again, pinning her wrists above her head as he forced her legs apart. He pressed himself against her, and with no warning, he tore into her, ripping her hymen along with all naive thoughts of romanticism and fantasies that once lingered in her mind. He began to move, rubbing her raw in private places as he dove into her. She was screaming, thrashing against the hands that pinned her down, her wrists bruising as she continued her movement. She continued to scream, coughing and sputtering in between. She coughed so much, in fact, that she couldn't breathe. The last thing she remembered was the distinct sound of Olivia saying "Freeze".

End of Chapter Four.

Sorry about the lack of dialog. Please let me know if the story seems choppy, it sounds great in my head, but might not on paper. Comments are appreciated.

Kry.


	5. Shock

"You have a right to a lawyer, do you want to use this right?"

"No, I waive my right to counsel. I am here to talk to you Captain Cragen."

"All right then, McCoy, speak loud enough for the recorder."

"You want my confession? Ha! I didn't come for that. Well, not yet anyway. I want my brothers off. They walk you get me."

"You want me to let them off. Not possible. They are accomplices-"

"Well, give them jail time, but not life, not the death penalty, and I'll confess to my crimes."

Cragen nodded to the mirror at the District Attorney standing behind it, waiting momentarily for any interruption, proceeding when there was none.

"Go on."

"Well, Cap, it's simple. My brothers did nothing wrong, I raped those women, including the lovely Miss Novak. I videotaped it, I like to watch after I killed them. Some of them starved, some of them didn't listen, so I beat them to death, some of them are still alive, the others who aren't accounted for most likely committed suicide. My tapes are in my apartment. When you'll find them, you'll see that my brothers never raped anyone. I always did."

"Why wasn't there any of your semen on the victims?"

"Well, Cap, that's different. See me and my brother J.R are twins. He's a little bigger than me, looks a little different, but we share the same DNA."

"Why get caught then, so easily after you were acquitted?"

"Well, I had to get caught, so my brothers could be proven innocent."

"Can you relay how you kidnapped ADA Casey Novak?"

He quirked his brow, smiling at Captain Cragen.

"Well, that was easy. She was so trusting. We were just going to shake her up. I got her to go out with me, I gained her trust, then slipped her a mickey. That easy. I didn't know, however, that you would be so fast in knowing she was missing. Good job, good job. She was nice though. I've never had a virgin."

Captain Cragen left then, storming out of the room, past the room behind the one way mirror, slamming the door to his office as he entered. He took the bottle from his drawer, untwisting the cap, and taking gulps of it, pulling away when he needed air. A knock at the door drew him from his bottle.

"What!?"

"It's me..."

"Come in Huang."

"Captain, I know this is hard, but we have to finish. We need his entire confession to ensure there is no way he can go to trial."

Huang looked to the Captain, nodding at the bottle clutched in his hand, closing the door behind him before speaking.

"Captain, you can't-"

"She was a virgin, George. How can he sit there, and smile at me when he tells me what he did to her? How am I supposed to keep my composure when he gives me details?"

"It's what makes you human. I know its hard, especially because its someone we know. But you can't let that sociopath get off knowing he is affecting you. Get through it, and get Casey justice."

Huang came over then, pulling the bottle from the Captain hands, pulling him from his seat. After a stick of gum, the Captain was back in the interrogation room.

"So, McCoy, what happened when you got to the hotel?"

"Well, I had fun, why don't you check the tapes, my confession is there."

"Very well then, as long as you waive your right."

"Tell Casey I said hi."

McCoy was taken away before he could react. The D.A shook hands with the captain, sending his regards to Casey, and leaving shortly after. They sat in his wake, his squad, excluding Olivia, who was waiting at the hospital with Casey. They would soon join them.

"People seem to forget about me. They only remember my existence when someone dies. I'm glad to know this time, thats not the case."

"Melinda...I'm sorry, things have been so--"

"Don't worry about it, Olivia, how is she?"

"How do you think? Sorry...she is getting a rape kit right now. The doctor came out, explained her injuries, gave me the pictures for the files."

"Did you look?"

"No...I can't."

Melinda took the file from her, opening it and meticulously investigating her findings. Seconds later, she gave them back to Olivia, blowing hot air out of her pursed lips.

"Stitches..."

"Oh..."

They sat then, on the hard orange chairs, in silence before Olivia decided to speak.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Day in, day out. How do you look at the lifeless bodies, and detach yourself? How do you pull your emotion from your work?"

" I have to. Death, is inevitable, Olivia. But when life is taken, by someone who has no authority over it, it is...terrible. But I have to detach my feelings, I can't cry over every assault, I can't mourn over every Jane Doe. It's my job. It's hard, sometimes, that I have to switch it on and off. And sometimes, I leave it on when I leave my job, just because it's easier to cope."

"Is that how your coping now?"

"No, she is a victim, Olivia, of a horrible crime, of an immoral injustice, but she is still alive. Hurt, broken, but alive. It's one body I wouldn't be able to examine, Liv, if she were dead, I wouldn't be able to detach myself."

"Detective..."

The doctor broke their conversation. Olivia stood, nodding to Melinda that she would soon return. The doctor lead her to Casey's room.

"You can get your statement, detective. She has bruised ribs, so try not to get her riled up. After your statement, please, come find me so I can give you the official description of her injuries."

"Thank you."

She walked to the door then. She was in a single room, hooked up to an iv that lead to her dehydrated body. Olivia thought back to the first time she saw Casey so weak, so fragile. That night had changed her opinion about her friend. It was the night Casey had confided in her of her virginity. It was the night Casey trusted her enough to divulge that information. This time was different. Her face wasn't as bruised, except for a single bruise near her cheekbone. But she looked, she seemed, so defeated. Her creamy white skin was unmarred until Olivia noticed her wrists, rubbed raw, angry and red. She inhaled then, letting Casey know of her presence.

"Hey..."

She didn't turn around, staring blankly at the wall. Olivia sat next to her bed, reaching for her hand before retracting it, not sure if Casey would appreciate her physical comfort.

"You were right..."

"Casey?" Her eyebrows furrowed.

"I shouldn't have trusted him, Liv."

"Casey...this isn't your fault--"

"Liv, it's all my fault. I put myself in the position, it is my fault."

"How could you have known?"

"I should have. I prosecute men like him every day, and I couldn't even predict that he was one of them."

"You're the victim here Casey, he did this to you."

"Liv, you don't understand. You probably never will. You never went through it. You can claim that you can't imagine what I'm going through. You can say that you it's not my fault. You can ask me if I've been touched, but no matter how many women my admission will save, it won't change the fact that it was me, that I couldn't even save myself. So please, don't prepare that speech for me. Don't tell me how sorry you are about this happening. I don't need an SVU detective right now, I need a friend."

"I-I don't know what to say...I'm, I'm sorry."

"Can you just...can you get me out of here?"

End of chapter five.

A/N: Here starts recovery. Please, feedback is highly appreciated.


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